


Her Brotherhood Times

by DaphneDescends



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Drama, F/M, Gen, Headcanon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-14
Updated: 2016-03-14
Packaged: 2018-05-26 16:06:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 14,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6246631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaphneDescends/pseuds/DaphneDescends
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[Warning: spoilers for the Brotherhood of Steel quests and Paladin Danse personal quest]</p>
<p>Gloria decided to join the Brotherhood of Steel to use their resources in her search for her son, but the time she spent with them changed her as well as those who knew her. This is the story of Gloria's time in the Brotherhood, seen from the eyes of the two men that knew her: Paladin Danse and Elder Maxson.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Please take into account that this fic includes quite a lot of my headcanon regarding Brotherhood politics as well as Maxson's past and motivations. Also, some events referred were told in my other fic 'Anger Management'

Elder Maxson had just boarded the Prydwen; he went down the stairs of the commanding deck to see Lancer-Captain Kells. As soon as Kells looked at him, his face changed. Maxson was feeling deeply shaken, and he was clearly unsuccessful at concealing it. He spoke before the Lancer-Captain could ask anything.

\- Kells, I have an important announcement to make. I’ll tell you and the Proctors on the meeting at dinner. I’ll be in my quarters until then. I am not to be disturbed.

Then Maxson turned on his heels and stomped towards the main deck, leaving Kells with his mouth still open.

 

When Maxson got to what had been Paladin Danse and then Sentinel Gloria’s quarters, he stopped and drew breath. They would have to be cleaned up and assigned to another Brotherhood member, but Maxson wanted some time alone in them first. When he entered the room, he saw it was almost empty already; Gloria had been mostly away for the last weeks. The bed was made, with clean sheets; at its feet, there was a Brotherhood uniform, neatly folded. Maxson picked it up and drew it close to his face. Her smell, that was still fresh in his mind, rushed up his nose to his brain and punched his guts at the same time. Still clutching the uniform in one hand, he approached the small table next to the bed. Sitting on it he found a pair of sunglasses; that woman had the strangest fixation on sunglasses, he had seen her wearing at least three different models. There was also what seemed to be a rifle sight. Maxson picked it up and looked through it, then snorted. Looking through the sight made the objects in the room appear further instead of closer, and a bit fuzzy. So this was the infamous “reverse sight” that Gloria crafted by mistake and had the whole Prydwen giggling for days. He tucked it in one of his coat’s inner pockets.

 

Maxson looked around the room, there was nothing else lying around. Only a metal trunk left to be checked. He hesitated, as he was feeling a little stalking already. But he’d rather rummage through Gloria’s personal belongings than leave them to be found and tossed around by gossipers. So he opened the trunk, and was surprised to find only a paper folder at the bottom of it. But even more surprising was its content. There was only a piece of paper, attached to the folder by a clip. It was a three-quarter portrait of Gloria, drawn in black pen ink. The drawing, detailed and realistic, had an amazing quality; she was perfectly recognizable in the fashionable updo she sported before she was convinced to get a more proper, military haircut. There was something written on the back of the paper: _“To my delightful 200 year-old friend, from your favorite Initiate. K. Evans.”_ Some Brotherhood members had artistic inclinations, so it seemed; as long as it didn’t take up any time or attention from their missions, he was Ok with it. Maxson himself would cultivate his writing, if it wasn’t for the lack of time and potential embarrassment that someone found out mighty Elder Maxson digged poetry.

 

Maxson gathered his loot, made up of an uniform, a pair of sunglasses, a sight, a drawing and some holotapes with her reports for minor missions that he found in the drawer of her desk. He felt a little pathetic, but he had never been able to afford any guilty pleasures, so this could as well be the first. He waited until the thud from the guards boots had faded away, and he sneaked to his own quarters with his little treasure. He had to sneak back to leave some of the holotapes, the ones that only had text content; if her quarters were found empty, there could be suspicions of someone taking things away. Then, at last, he closed the door to his own quarters behind him and sighed. He felt like when he concealed the Guns and Bullets issue Sarah had given him for his birthday, back when he was a kid. He reached for the key of his personal trunk and stored the last remains of Gloria at the bottom, below his own uniforms and underwear. And together with Danse’s holotags. Fitting.

 

Earlier that day, Maxson had been with Gloria on the beach, at his secret private spot. She had announced that she was leaving the Brotherhood, and they had made love. Just like that. It had caught him by surprise, the sudden urge to be close to her that he couldn’t, and didn’t, refrain. He half-expected her to push him away; instead, he felt her arms tighten around his waist, under his coat, and a joy because of it that made him bolder and give in to his desire to kiss her. The rest, as they say, was history.

 

But that moment had passed; and even if she had agreed to remain as some kind of honorary member in the Brotherhood, it was likely that months would pass before they met again, if ever. The thought of it filled Maxson with despair, a dull pain very similar to what he felt when Elder Lyons, and later his daughter Sarah, had died. Except that Gloria was alive, but those moments at the beach when he had felt the happiest man on earth seemed to have happened thousands of years away. The happiest, the closest he had ever felt to anyone. It was over.

 

Maxson threw his coat on the bed and sat down in front of the table. He poured himself a glass of whiskey, trying to come to terms with feelings he barely know even existed. What had drawn him to Gloria’s arms had been growing behind his back, ignored yet unrelenting. Many things made sense now that he knew it was also crouching behind Gloria, waiting to assault them when guards went down, as they were at the beach. Both of them had opened their hearts and it had sprung out.

 

Trying to collect his thoughts before the meeting at dinner, he wondered how that damned freezer vault-dweller had come to have such an effect on him. He started to relive every moment that he could remember about her, hoping at least some of it would make sense.


	2. Lay that pistol down, babe

Maxson wasn’t very impressed with Gloria the first time they met. The only thing he clearly remembered about that time, it was the uneasiness he suddenly felt when she stepped into the deck. It wasn’t that the found her attractive. He had dealt with attractive Initiates before; hell, there was a whole bunch of good-looking sisters in the Brotherhood. And he never felt uncomfortable around them. He had been raised to think he was above the rest by his mere lineage alone, and his feats had only secured that position. Besides, women were not a strange specimen to him. It was not known to many, but Arthur Maxson was a very passionate lover and the way to release the natural impulse of his youth had been paved by the allure of his fame and name. 

No, it was not that he was intimidated by her looks. Actually, he was rather appalled by them. She was pretty short and skinny, it was mostly angles that showed from her wastelander clothes. How this woman could even hold the rifle she had hanging on her back was a mystery to him. Furthermore, she had Asian features. Paladin Danse had assured in his reports that she was actually of Japanese descent and already a third-generation American in her time. But Maxson couldn’t help being a bit disgusted by what to him had the air of a Chinese face. As she approached to talk to him for the first time, after his address to the crew, he jokingly thought to himself what Liberty Prime would make of her if they managed to complete it. 

Still, he was intimidated by something. Maybe it was her self-confidence. While all the other recruits had shown a mixture of fear and awe as he delivered his speech, she seemed perfectly at ease. As she drew closer to him, he noticed that she walked with resolution, her chin a bit raised. Either she didn’t get nervous easily, or she was very good at faking it. But his well-honed combat instincts told him there was something else. It was a faint sense of threat, a tingling message on the airwaves that told crossing her would be the worst idea one could ever have. Despite his initial reservations and scorn, Maxson was compelled to tell her that he cared for the people of the Commonwealth. An explanation he shouldn’t have given to a newcomer. He tried to be kind and welcoming during the rest of the conversation, not so much because of thesense of danger in her as for Danse’s recommendation. It annoyed him that all the while the uneasiness persisted and he needed to clear his throat often, but he was relieved to see her shifting from one foot to the other. At least the feeling was mutual. 

When at last Maxson dismissed Gloria, he kept thinking about her. Her answers had been respectful, but it was clear that she had her own reasons to join the Brotherhood. Even if Danse had attributed the success of recovering a deep-range transmitter from ArcJet mostly to her ,and had assured that she had located Paladin Brandis lost patrol on her own as well as convincing the old Paladin to go back to the Brotherhood, Maxson wasn’t convinced of her abilities. So he sent a message to Danse and asked him to arrange a rooster of physical training for new recruits as well as the Brotherhood members that had been waiting for the Prydwen in the Commonwealth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Please notice that I don't have any prejudice whatsoever to Asian people; in fact, I created Gloria in game with Asian features because I like them. I chose that device to create conflict because it fits Maxson's background and to avoid the trope of him being physically attracted to her from the beginning. Also I'm not implying Maxson is a racist, only that prejudices in the environment we grow up in can influence our first impressions of other people.


	3. Crazy he calls me

The day was both bright and fresh, perfect for a training session. The track had been arranged, and the recruits were finishing their warm-ups under the attentive gaze of their respective mentors and Elder Maxson. He liked to supervise at least one training when outsiders were allowed into the Brotherhood ranks, and he had chosen this one because Knight Gloria would be in it. He wanted to be sure that this vault-dweller was so powerful as Paladin Danse said. At the bottom of his heart, he had to admit that he wanted to confirm his own first impressions about her. Danse stood next to him on his left side, visibly nervous. The Paladin had decided to personally sponsor the vault-dweller, and this was an important day for him as it was for her.

 

The training session finally began, and Maxson was both anxious and satisfied to see his suspicions come true. Knight Gloria performed very poorly, soon falling back several meters behind the rest. Danse grew more and more restless by the minute, and he tried to put in a good word for his protegée:

\- Elder, as you can see, Knight Gloria is persistent. She’s constantly assessing the situation and adjusting.

And it was true. Whenever she failed to overcome an obstacle, she reevaluated its nature and her own strength, and tried once and again until she was successful. It was certainly commendable, but it wasn’t enough.

 

Everybody had to wait for her to finish, her face glowing red and her belly exposed by the training clothes glowing white. Failing the rest, they could use her as a warning sign at the entrance of the airport. She had time to catch her breath as some initiates cleared up and prepared an area for the melee training. She would be the first one to spar with one of the other recruits, and headed hesitantly towards the arena when ordered to. She seemed half-absent as the trainer explained the rules, but she was focused enough on her rival to dodge his first strike. And that was precisely what she kept doing for the following minutes: dodging kicks, punches and grabbing attempts; almost in a gracious way, but without ever striking back. Maxson couldn’t believe his eyes, and judging by his face, neither did Danse. The Elder couldn’t help himself and shouted towards the ring:

\- Knight Gloria, what the hell are you doing?

Gloria shouted back with her eyes still locked on her opponent:

\- It’s martial arts! Did you forget about them post-war?

\- Well, did they teach you anything besides dodging?

\- Yes!

\- Then do something!

\- I can’t! I forgot!

Maxson and Danse facepalmed at the same time. Gloria’s opponent took advantage of her hesitation to connect a punch to her ribs and knock her down. Danse looked at Maxson with a face as red as Gloria’s.

\- I’m sorry, sir. Knight Gloria is not good at melee fighting, but she’s an excellent sniper.

Maxson snorted.

\- Let’s hope she can do something more than dodging bullets.

 

And that she did. A very different image of her awaited for Maxson at the following training, which would be a combat simulation where each recruit could choose their weapon with dummy rounds. He was mildly upset and expected to see another freak show. After her embarrassing performance at the physical training, Knight Gloria hadn’t been worrying and had laughed it off instead. She had been humoring her brothers and sisters with their jokes about her weakness, and Danse could only get a vague promise that she would do better in the future.

 

The combat simulation started and the vault-dweller was nowhere to be seen. For a moment Maxson wondered if she had run off the Brotherhood because of what happened at the last training. Danse assured him it wasn’t the case.

\- She’s here, sir. But she will remain hidden until she wants to be seen.

The Paladin seemed to know his protegée well, for that was precisely how the combat went. Knight Gloria remained out of sight, but sparse shoots were seen from different places, either aiming at the dummy targets or at empty spaces to distract her opponents. Where the formal training led the other recruits to more or less predictable positions, the Knight’s creative thinking allowed her to appear where nobody would expect her. On the very few occasions that Maxson was able to spot her, she moved smoothly, almost elegant. And quickly disappeared again. When the trainer confirmed that many of the targets had been hit by Knight Gloria, Danse gave a loud sigh of relief.

 

Maxson’s anxiety had been significantly reduced, until he saw Knight Gloria celebrate her victory by _dancing_ with one of her comrades. He sighed as well.


	4. The glitter of her jewels rose to meet it

It was the first quiet night patrol at Cambridge Station in weeks. While Scribe Haylen installed the transmitter they had secured from ArcJet and Paladin Danse stood watch, Knight Rhys, Gloria and her friend Piper had been cleaning up the area around the Station. Unlike other nights when the distant screams of feral ghouls were a constant presence, everything was so silent all Danse could hear was the sound of his own steps, and of Rhys’ when he approached. 

Danse had left his power armor at the Station’s entrance, so that the team wouldn’t be awaken by the thud of its heavy boots. They deserved to rest. He wandered near the resting area, where Haylen, Gloria and the reporter (why on earth she was traveling through the Commonwealth with a reporter was beyond Danse’s understanding), sleeping bags close together. It was pretty clear from the beginning that Gloria and the reporter were close friends already, and they had bonded with Haylen almost instantly. To Danse, that was a sign that they could be trusted. 

He rested his eyes on Gloria, that mysterious local that claimed to be a vault-dweller looking for a lost relative. Whether it was true or not, the fact remained that her arrival had been the light at the end of a tunnel that Danse had feared would end with all the Gladius Team dead. Her black hair was spread on the pillow, covered with dirt. Nights were still pretty cold, and she had wisely advised that they should wait to wash themselves until morning. Her boots and the reporter’s were neatly placed against a nearby wall. She had some motherly disposition, that was for sure. Her sleep was restless, and she even talked a little in her dreams though Danse couldn’t make out a word from it. He heard Rhys approaching and resumed his own course.

If Gloria decided to stay and they survived long enough to set eyes on the Prydwen, Danse was already considering applying for her official induction into the Brotherhood. She had proven a little skeptical towards the Brotherhood’s goals when he explained them. But it took guts to wield irony in the face of an unknown individual clad in a big armor, and otherwise she had been respectful towards his orders and the rest of the team. Including Rhys, whose attitude she had dismissed with a smile and a shrug, much to Haylen’s amusement. Most importantly, despite her lack of formal training she had shown a combat prowess that could be refined into a very competent soldier with proper guidance. Danse would let Rhys and Haylen give her some assignments and then he’d put her to a final test, then send his report to his superiors. 

 

After that night, everything happened so quickly that before Danse could think twice, they were both on a vertibird heading to the Prydwen. The nightmare Team Gladius had gone through seemed to have taken ages, while days since Gloria joined rushed by. Danse blinked, and she had gone back to manage her settlements, found Paladin’s Brandis missing squad and left the Paladin himself packaged and ready for his delivery back to the Prydwen. As the vertibird flew over the Commonwealth, he let Gloria man the minigun; or rather hold it, as she didn’t fire a single shoot in the whole trip. She was absorbed looking at the Commonwealth below her feet, unusually serious and quiet. Oddly enough, it was Danse who did all the talking while he observed her; her white and delicate arms holding the minigun, her narrow back tense. Danse hadn’t seen many dolls in his life, but he was pretty sure she looked like one. He felt the urge to put his hand on her shoulder and ask her if she was feeling Ok, but he didn’t think it appropriate so he just kept talking. 

Gloria woke up from her trance as soon as she set foot on the Prydwen, and Danse was beside himself seeing her so amazed at the airship. He was sure that Elder Maxson would be favourably impressed by the new recruit that the Paladin was taking under his protection. Much to his disappointment, which felt a bit more personal than he’d have liked, it wasn’t quite the case. He was standing a few steps backs from Gloria when Maxson first addressed her personally, and the only word suited to describe his reaction was… weird. Later that day, Danse received in his terminal a message with orders to arrange a series of physical and combat training for new recruits, explicitly asking to include Gloria. He was dismayed. Perhaps Elder Maxson had seen something in her that he had missed? Could it be possible that he had been carried away by his enthusiasm to welcome her into the flock?    

He left his quarters as if he had been ordered to shoot down a whole litter of kittens. He asked around about Gloria and found her in Bay 3, her face beaming with delight at the sight of her power armor and all the tools and workbenches around her. A strange feeling of warmth spread into Danse’s chest.

\- Welcome to the Prydwen, Knight Gloria. Congratulations on your promotion.

\- Welcome indeed. Thank you, Paladin Danse.

\- Do you want me to accompany on the rest of the tour?

\- Sure thing.

Danse and Gloria smiled at each other, their eyes sparkling with a sweet light.


	5. There’s a certain slant of light

The first days of Gloria in the Brotherhood were bumpy, for lack of a better word. Just as Danse thought as he had already fought by her side, she delivered a mediocre performance in the physical tests and excelled in the combat simulation, leaving a mixed impression on her superiors. It was a relief that they got a string of assignments just afterwards, so Gloria could prove her worth and Danse was reassured that he had made the right choice by sponsoring her. Once and again he reminded her of how he would go down with her if she failed and how they couldn’t let the Brotherhood down at such a delicate moment. She always tried to calm him down with solemn promises that she was aware of the stakes, and most importantly, she lived up to them in the field. 

Those first, lighter missions served to show Danse that, as a combat team, Gloria and him worked like clockwork. He went in first, guns blazing, to draw fire to himself; in the meanwhile, she moved to a comfortable position to do her sniping and soon disposed of enemies surrounding Danse. He filled in his reports full of pride, convinced that he had managed to build an excellent team for retrieve and hit-and-run operations; but Maxson didn’t seem to share his enthusiasm. Danse understood that the Elder couldn’t cheer every new recruit’s little achievement, but given the potential of Gloria to lead them to the Institute, his apparent lack of interest was disconcerting. On the few occasions that Maxson and Gloria had met, both of them were kind to each other but there was a rising sense of tension between them. Danse understood Gloria’s reservations but didn’t expect that attitude from the Elder towards her; she was an outsider, but one who had his personal support.

 

Danse grew increasingly worried until the message with the Fort Strong assignment popped up in his terminal. He was happy that there was no one around to see him throw up his arms in the air and hear his over the top sigh of relief. When he met Gloria on his way to meet Maxson, who wanted to assign the mission personally, she patted Danse on the shoulder and winked at him. His mood brightened even more, and he felt a bit silly for having doubted her and himself. He wasn’t mistaken after all, and Arthur agreed. 

They carried out the Fort Strong mission seamlessly. Well, not _entirely_ seamlessly. Just when they thought everything was clear, a super mutant emerged from the shadows aiming for Gloria’s face with a board. Both of them reacted quickly, Gloria averting her face and pushing the board aside with one hand while Danse shoot the mutant down. She was lucky that her good reflexes had saved her teeth, and her jaw for that matter; but they didn’t prevent her from doing the trip back to the Prydwen holding a handkerchief to her mouth, bleeding profusely from a nasty cut on her lip.

 

With the Fort armory secured, at last Maxson seemed to be pleased by the performance of the new team and ready to send Gloria to the missions she was actually recruited for. She was sent away to get information that would lead the Brotherhood to the Institute, using the contacts and resources she already had in the Commonwealth. Danse was allowed to go with her, and once her injuries had been treated, they headed to Diamond City. She wanted to resupply before checking up on her settlements; he had suspected she wanted to do that, but her keeping in charge of the settlements was part of her agreement to join, so he didn’t oppose. 

They took two rooms in the Dugout Inn; Gloria insisted that she didn’t mind sleeping in the same room, but somehow Danse felt decorum forbade it even if he had slept in the field next to many women before. He changed uniforms in his own room, and once he felt his power armor was sufficiently protected to leave it alone, left for the main room. He could barely believe his eyes when he found Gloria sitting at the bar in front of a row of Nuka Cola bottles, drinking from one of them with a straw.

\- Are you sure that is proper nourishment, soldier?

Gloria pointed at the scar on her lip; her mouth looked pretty swollen, the stitches ran up almost to her nose.

\- I don’t know about proper, but it’s certainly as much as I can manage.

\- But sure there is some ingredients you can cut and put into your mouth with bearable pain?

She raised her left hand to show her fingers splinted together.

\- I’ve taken enough chems just to be able to hold the rifle. I won’t take anymore just to eat. I’ll be fine, I’m sure tomorrow I can have breakfast all by myself.

 

Danse kept thinking for a couple of minutes. There had to be some way to give her a proper meal. Well, there was a way… but it could be embarrassing for both of them. What the hell, he was responsible for the well-being of every soldier under his command.  

\- Knight, do you have any food stored?

\- Think I have some steak of I don’t remember what. Why?

\- Outstanding. Go to your room, fetch it, and wait for me there.

Gloria gave him a questioning look.

\- It’s an order. Now, move.

 

Danse left the Inn, fought for a few minutes with the Communist robot outside until he got a bowl of noodles, ate the noodles himself and saved the soup, went back to the Inn, asked the waitress for a dish, fork, knife and spoon, and entered Gloria’s room. She was sitting on her bed, looking baffled with a lunchbox on her lap. Danse fetched the lunchbox and set everything on the table. He took the steak out of the lunchbox and started cutting it into tiny pieces. He had made up his mind and the sooner it was all over, the better. 

\- Danse… what do you think you’re doing?

\- I’m helping you get a proper dinner.

\- You are not feeding me like a little baby!

\- Yes, I am. And that’s an order, too. Now fetch another chair and bring it here.

He guessed that Gloria was too confused to complain, for she did exactly as he had instructed. He dipped the steak bits into the soup, picked one with the fork and aimed for Gloria’s mouth. She uttered a “This is absurd” but she opened it, and Danse put the meat on her tongue as delicately as he could, trying not to touch the wound on her upper lip. He was as careful as possible giving his large hands were better suited for fighting, but if at any time he hurt her, she didn’t complain. Finishing the meat and then the soup took ages, but neither of them looked impatient. They just fell into a comfortable silence; Danse felt like they were inside a bubble of intimacy that stopped sound, time and movement save their own.

 

She gave him a warm _“Thank you”_ when they were finally done, but Danse simply asked whether she had any equipment to disinfect her wound.

\- Yeah, Cade gave me a couple of things to treat it until…- she stopped and shook her head- No. You are not…

\- Yes.

\- No.

\- That’s an order. Sit on the bed.

Gloria snorted but did as he said. She produced a small bottle of transparent liquid, a clean handkerchief and a syringe from her backpack, handled it to Danse and sat on her bed. Danse placed a chair just in front of her, rolled up his sleeves and proceeded to clean her wound and inject what he supposed was some kind a painkiller into her arm. His hands shook a little, but once again he took his time and she didn’t tell him to hurry.

\- Are you tucking me in as well?

She sounded sarcastic but she was smiling at Danse. He smiled back.

\- No, I think you’re old enough to do that yourself.

Gloria placed her hand briefly on Danse’s naked forearm, giving him goosebumps. Her touch was cold.

\- Thank you.

\- You’re welcome, soldier. It’s my duty. 

It was not, but what could he say? He had overstepped his bounds enough already. He clumsily cleared the table, wished her good night and left, flustered and disconcerted by his own behavior.


	6. My voice because of you

Completing missions with the Brotherhood of Steel brought a sense of accomplishment, of pride; the joy of having fulfilled an almost sacred duty. But they were not supposed to be fun. Then again, Danse and Gloria had not been doing missions for the Brotherhood lately. And yet the last thing he’d expected was to have _fun_. The adrenaline rush when they finished a victorious fight was familiar enough; the feeling of camaraderie after they succeeded in a combined action he had almost forgotten, for he hadn’t experienced it in many years. Yet, it was known to him. But not like this. They even high-fived sometimes, for heaven’s sake. 

Danse couldn’t say that he disliked their new situation. Not at all. They were doing good to the Commonwealth, clearing up farms and abandoned villages for new settlements, and keeping threats away from the existing ones. They also reached where trading only couldn’t get, and provided settlers with many materials they needed for survival and comfort. That also helped him to understand Gloria’s infuriating habit of hoarding every piece of junk she came across, even if it got him out of his nerves nevertheless. The tasks they had been performing were not the kind of work Danse was used to; but he could see the benefits of it almost right away, so it grew on him. 

There was also the change in hierarchy. While they were on the settlements, Gloria wasn’t a Brotherhood Knight but the Minutemen General. She was the one who gave the orders, the one being reported to and asked for directions. Even in combat situations, Gloria’s targeting was much dependent on Danse’s position, so eventually she was the one to tell him where and when to go. That made him anxious as well as relieved to not be the commanding officer for once. Also Gloria was naturally cautious; her orders, if they weren’t always correct at least were never hasty.

 

When the fighting was over, they had been enjoying civilian life situations that were usually out of the Brotherhood routine. They stretched on old deckchairs and sunbathed while they waited for one of the Minutemen to report. They shared ice-cold beers, whose origin Gloria refused to disclose, to celebrate successful missions or the building of a new water pump. It only took Gloria three beers to get totally wasted, leaving Danse to drag her to the nearest bed. Then she would wake up at night feeling very hungry, and they’d eat together and then go on talking for hours before the fire, taking advantage of a privacy that they could never have in the crowded mess hall of the Prydwen. It was in one of those nights that Danse admitted he had been pushing her too hard. He confessed to her that she had surpassed all his expectations, and that it felt unfair on his part to have judged her so harshly. She had never given any reason to doubt her intentions and yet he had been doing just that all the time.

In front of a cooking fire, Gloria wrapped up in a blanket, he told her about Paladin Krieg and how he’d hate to see her potential go to waste. She heard him out and her answers were kind and sympathetic. Danse struggled with words unless he was giving orders, and personal conversations were specially tricky. His beating around the bush until he got to the point usually made people impatient and eventually he lost their attention. But Gloria soaked in every word he said and helped him navigate the maze of his own mind. Whether she faked it just to please him or she genuinely enjoyed sorting out his thoughts, opening up was easier with her than anyone else.

 

Together they went all the way to Sanctuary, which was on the opposite end of the Commonwealth from the Prydwen. Gloria told him that it was very close to Vault 111, where she had been cryogenized for 200 years and her husband’s corpse was still locked. She didn’t have any intention to pay a visit, but Sanctuary had been her home in the pre-war years, and most importantly her first important settlement after being unleashed to the present day Commonwealth. When they got there, they were received by another of the Minutemen, one Preston Garvey. Danse disliked him instantly, though at a later time he’d have to admit how wrong this first impression was. But on that first meeting, Garvey asked to speak privately with Gloria and took her aside. A very bad feeling clutched Danse’s guts. It didn’t get any better when she finally approached him, who was still standing on the same spot she had left him. Gloria was wringing her hands and didn’t look him in the eyes when she spoke.

 

\- There is a… lead on the Institute that I need to follow. But I need it to do it alone. It’s nothing personal, but the nature…

\- Excuse me, Knight; but if you have some information related to my team’s energy readings and the Institute, there is no way I’m not going along.

\- Listen, Danse, I know you want to be there. But it’s not possible.

- _I_ am the one who decides what’s possible. And _I_ order you to disclose this information to me, immediately.

Then Gloria did look him in the eyes, and Danse intensely disliked the expression on her face.

\- Maxson told me to go where I needed to, and do whatever it takes to get information on the Institute’s location. If I understand correctly, _his_ orders override _yours_. 

Danse sighed impatiently. He couldn’t believe what he heard. But she was right. And Maxson had ordered him as well to follow her wherever she took him and leave when she told him to. But he didn’t want to. If Gloria was going to get herself into a dangerous situation, he didn’t want her to do it alone. He felt powerless, he couldn’t find anything to say that would challenge her decision.

 - And why is it exactly that I’d jeopardize this mission so seriously?

\- Danse… There are places I can go, but you can’t. That’s why Maxson wanted me in the first place, right?

\- Yes.

\- Then let me be your eyes and ears in the Commonwealth, as I’m supposed to. I’ll be back in the Prydwen in a few days. Will report as soon as I can.

\- All right, all right. Then you’re dismissed, I guess.

\- Thank you, Danse. I’ll head out first thing in the morning, you can stay as long as you like.

\- I’ll be leaving immediately.

\- If that’s what you want… take care.

\- You too, Knight. Ad victoriam. 

He didn’t have her way with words, there was nothing else he could have possibly said. Mission failed.

 

He had been way more rude to her than he intended, and Danse regretted the tone of his last conversation with Gloria all the way back to the Prydwen. He was so upset, he didn’t even stop by Cambridge Station to check on the rest of his squad. Her decision to do whatever she was going to do without him felt like a personal failure, even if deep down he knew that it wasn’t. Maxson was totally cool with it when Danse got to the Prydwen and reported in, and that only upset him further. The Elder had been second-guessing Gloria even more than Danse, and suddenly he was so confident that she wouldn’t be doing anything questionable according to Brotherhood standards. Or worse, that potential benefits would turn questionable into acceptable. 

The throbbing pain in his head that he had been suffering came back with a vengeance. Cade advised once more that he should be removed from duty for a few days, but Danse refused once more and he was temporarily assigned to the Airport patrols. And there he was, bored and angry at the world, when an Initiate came to him and announced that Knight Gloria would be arriving at the Prydwen in an hour and Danse was to go there immediately and wait in his quarters for further instructions. 

He did as ordered, and was pretending to review some reports when the door to his quarters opened without knocking. Gloria’s flustered and smiling face poked in. He bolted to meet her.

\- Danse!- she took his hands and gave him the strangest look. Danse wanted to pinch his arm to check whether he had turned into a wax sculpture.- Maxson is nowhere to be seen, so I guess I can tell you first… I may have a way into the Institute!

\- Outstanding!

\- Yes! But… I have to go to the Glowing Sea first.

 

Danse released her hands and pressed his fingers to his temples. The pain was there again and it was killing him. Why were things always so complicated around her?


	7. Ain't that a kick in the head

It was a happy coincidence that Maxson had been informed about Gloria’s return when Paladin Ruth was having a shower. For security reasons, Gloria could only disclose whether she had found any leads to the Institute location directly to him; not knowing whether she had anything to report, he pushed back debrief until the following day.

Paladin Ruth had been on recon missions beyond the Commonwealth and had decided to stop by on her way back to the Citadel. She had stayed a couple of days at the Prydwen and the rest of her team set up camp at the Airport. The Paladin had shown a keen interest in getting information on new recruits, specially the one that was managing groundwork on the Commonwealth. Maxson knew that Ruth was a hardcore traditionalist and was well aware that her inner circle of Outcasts would be eagerly awaiting rumors on any outsider allowed to work with the Brotherhood on such a delicate mission. Gloria’s absence and time of return were very handy in avoiding Ruth getting any impressions that didn’t come straight from Maxson’s mouth. He had managed to have dinner with the Paladin, her blissfully unaware that the object of her curiosity was already aboard. And it was Maxson’s intention that Ruth would leave the following morning none the wiser. 

Somehow Maxson and her had ended up dinner at the mess hall sharing a bottle of whiskey. Fortunately the place was already deserted; before the bottle was completely empty, Maxson’s tongue started getting loose and Ruth was intent on taking advantage of it. She asked again about the missions Gloria had undertaken and her performance, as well as her acceptance of the Brotherhood core values. The Paladin successfully unnerved Maxson, but she didn’t know that it wasn’t only her prying questions that upset him. Gloria’s alternate feats and failures were still fresh in his mind and mentally going through them got on his nerves. He managed to focus his speech on Gloria’s success at Fort Strong and her good relationship with her brothers and sisters. Both things were true, so he sounded convincing enough. 

Another half bottle went down and Ruth finally stood up and announced she was going to bed. She didn’t seem very happy. Maxson knew she wanted to hear something negative about Gloria, something that reassured her in her belief that wastelanders were inferior to Brotherhood members. Maxson fixed in his mind the images of Gloria in the melee fighting simulation; then he stood up as well, leaned forward and lowered his voice as if he was about to reveal a big secret.

\- But this wastelander, you know, I have some doubts, I’m not sure...

He let the weight of his words linger for a few seconds over the Paladin’s wide-open eyes.

\- She has this face… almond eyes, flat nose, small mouth… I wonder, maybe she is… a Communist spy?

Paladin Ruth laughed out loud.

\- Maxson, you’re impossible! But you be careful, hey! Well, I’m off to bed. 

Ruth turned around and headed towards Kell’s quarters, where she had been sleeping much to the Lancer-Captain chagrin. Maxson waited until she was out of view to start walking to his own place. The sound of some steps behind him mixed with the sound of his own. He assumed the night patrol had found the half-full whiskey Ruth and him had left behind and didn’t bother to look back.

 

Paladin Ruth left the following morning at the appointed time. Maxson had some spare time before Danse and Gloria debriefed him, so he treated himself to a shower and a cigar after a nice breakfast. He was in an excellent mood; something told him that his wastelander had interesting things to tell him. He was standing at the commanding deck, his back to the windows, when Danse showed up. The Paladin was alone and looking angry. Maxson sighed; had Knight Gloria failed to live up to expectations? Again? Danse saluted without looking him in the eyes.

\- At ease, Paladin. Where is your partner? You were ordered to report in together.

\- May I speak freely?

\- This is a formal meeting… but ok, go ahead.

\- Knight Gloria found valuable information that could lead to the Institute’s location and also to the means to get inside.

Maxson felt tense furrows forming in his brow. He didn’t like mind games, specially not in matters related to important missions.

\- Care to tell me why she isn’t here to inform as she was ordered to?

\- She wasn’t sure that you would want to hear her. Since, you know, she may be a Communist spy.

\- Excuse me?

\- Her face, almond eyes and all. 

It took Maxson a few seconds to understand what Danse was talking about. Then it dawned on him. 

_“Shit.”_  

\- Wait a minute… you two were listening to my conversation with Paladin Ruth? How long were you there?

\- We weren’t spying on you, Arthur. I was going back to my quarters, and she was… on patrol. We saw you and Paladin Ruth from the workshop and I knew you didn’t want her to meet Gloria, so we waited until she was gone. 

She was on patrol? Right… Anyway, he didn’t understand where Danse was going. Maxson was usually caring of the people under his command, but he also had been tough on his subordinates before; it was the first time Danse confronted him like this. 

\- Right, so I made a joke in bad taste. When did a joke become a good reason to disobey my direct orders?

\- It was disrespectful, and I think Gloria has done enough to gain more than our respect.

\- And what do you want me to do? Apologize? To a Knight?

\- She’s more than a Knight, and you know it. Damn it Arthur, if it wasn’t for her me and all my team would be dead. And worse, the info on energy readings would’ve never reached you. 

Pleasing an ordinary Paladin to avoid unrest at the Citadel and now apologizing to a Knight from the wasteland. The things he had to do for the Brotherhood. 

\- I want this to be very clear, this is a one-time exception. I don’t intend to go on comforting every soldier that took offense from my words. Tell Knight Gloria to meet me at the forecastle in ten.

\- She doesn’t like the forecastle, she’s afraid of heights…

\- I won’t be seen pleading with a Knight at my commanding post, so it’s that or nothing! Now go and tell her, and I don’t want anyone else to hear. Dismissed! 

Danse saluted and left. Maxson was starting to think that he may have screwed up after all. I was true that his Scribes still didn’t have a clue on the energy readings and she had already a lead on how to get to the Institute. But he refused to feel embarrassed.

 

He waited at the forecastle and was about to storm out of it and go bark to Danse, when the door opened and Gloria came through it. She was wearing a leather jacket over her wastelander clothes; he hadn’t seen it before, it fitted her well. She didn’t salute, only closed the door behind her and leaned against it with her arms crossed. Her eyes were red, but otherwise she appeared to be serene. Maxson cleared his throat. Right then he’d rather have a deathclaw in front of him than her with that undisguised contempt on her face. His eyes lingered for a moment on the big scar that parted her upper lip. She had gotten that at Fort Strong. He felt a pang of guilt. He cleared his throat again and crossed his arms. 

\- Paladin Danse has brought to my attention that you heard a joke I made about you last night and were distressed by it. I would like to apologize.

\- It wasn’t a joke. It was a racist remark on my appearance. It’s disgusting enough on itself, but given the circumstances it’s particularly unfair.

Her voice wavered and her lips trembled a little, giving Maxson a strange feeling inside, like he had a broken bone but couldn’t notice the pain.

\- You’re right, Knight. And you have my word, it won’t happen again.

\- What have I done that you despise me so much? I saved the remaining asses of Danse’s team, got them a transmitter because an unfrozen mum could do what they couldn’t. Neriah sends me to get her samples because apparently I’m the only one in this proud Brotherhood that can fight and collect blood at the same time. I got you a fucking fat man arsenal. You tell me go get information on the Institute and I put my ass on the line to get it and bring it to you on a golden plate. But you didn’t like me from day one and no matter what I do, that doesn’t change. 

Her monologue took him by surprise, but she did have a point. A bad day at physical training wasn’t nearly enough to justify his harsh judgement of her, or that he had made a cruel joke about her looks to appease a political enemy. Only then he admitted to himself what a stupid thing he had done. 

\- I believe in the Brotherhood values. I may not agree with some of them, but I think you’re the best to happen to this blasted land. But if I’m that disgusting, I’ll use some other people to get to the Institute. I won’t like it, but I’ll do it anyway.

\- No, don’t. Please, stay. I mean it.- he stretched out his hand towards Gloria.- Fresh start?

She took his hand and shook it, nodding. It was the first time he touched her, and the feeling of his fingers enveloping her small, warm hand sent shivers down his spine. He noticed her shoulders shook a bit.

\- We’ll have a formal meeting in one hour so you can finally report on your findings. You’re dismissed, soldier. Ad victoriam.

\- Ad victoriam.

Gloria left the forecastle; she’d probably go looking for Danse to tell him about their conversation. They were hand in glove, those two. Maxson stood on his spot, looking at his hand. The memory of her hand in his made him realize something he didn’t want to see before: he admired her. He always had.


	8. What seems like an interlude now

The next few weeks were spent preparing Gloria’s trip to the Glowing Sea. She had been adamant that she wanted to go alone and confronted Danse’s insistence to go with her to the point of a big argument that got the gossipers talking for days. Maxson himself had been reluctant at first, but eventually agreed that whatever she found there wasn’t likely to be the type that the Brotherhood engaged amicably. At the same time, a great part of their success in the Commonwealth was relying on that mission, so Maxson insisted on overseeing preparations personally and many of the Prydwen’s resources were diverted to them.

Her power armor would be about the only thing that stood between Gloria and her death from radiation exposure at the Sea, and Proctor Ingram was assigned to the task of tinkering with it to ensure the greatest degree of protection. Both of them, their small team and Maxson spent a lot of time together going between the armor bay, Quinlan’s office and Teagan’s storeroom. It was awkward at first. Ingram didn’t like having him sniffing around and Gloria was stiff around him for obvious reasons. But they all remained civil and the project soon started to yield results.    

As days went by and they became used to each other, things smoothed out and Maxson realized that he and Gloria actually got along quite well. He also found out that the wastelander was more similar to himself than he had thought. She was straightforward and always got to the point, yet she knew when diplomacy and an indirect approach were needed. Just as he was, or more precisely, as he had learned to be in order to fit the role the Brotherhood needed him to fill. Maxson also got very curious when he discovered that, as it was usual with joker types, her teasing was a way of deflecting attention. Her perpetual smirk was also a mask to avoid showing her feelings. It was disconcerting to Maxson. She had grown up and lived in a peaceful, comfortable and lush world; what did she have to conceal her feelings from? Maybe it was an ability she had developed on the wasteland, but it came to her too naturally to be recent. Still, he found funny that she used jokes in the same way he used his furrowed brow; as a diversion.

 

After many days of being confined to the main deck of the Prydwen, Maxson decreed that they all needed a day off. Both Ingram and Gloria protested that preparations weren’t quite finished, but in fact they almost were and Maxson feared that her armor would be in perfect condition but her mind wouldn’t. Her senses had to be fresh and rested as well as her eyes, and they had been strained and fixed under the Prydwen electric lights for too long. Being honest to himself, Maxson knew there was a more important reason to call for a day off before such a key mission: he desperately needed it. The very thought of seeing Ingram or Gloria’s face or the armor bay sickened him. 

Maxson was a naturally reserved person, but his position demanded that he dealt with several people, every day. His mother had sent him away so that his introvert disposition was corrected; and it had been, mostly, but he could never shake off the feeling of being emotionally and mentally depleted after speaking to one person after another. He had his own hiding spot back in the Citadel and had managed to secure a private place for himself in the Commonwealth, near the Boston airport at the beach. Whenever he could squeeze the time among his many duties, he went there unguarded to depressurize. That day however, he grabbed two guards and headed to one of the training yards. He had been neglecting his own training and he craved for some physical activity beyond roaming the Prydwen. 

 

He had managed to have the training yard all for himself. Usually he liked to train with Danse or one of the officers; but Danse had been temporarily assigned to another patrol and was away on a mission, and an officer would just take advantage of the extra time to present him with all the issues they hadn’t been able to address due to his time on the Glowing Sea project. So he exercised, punched and shot dummies in blissful silence. When at last he felt more relaxed, he headed towards the small building that served as common bathroom area. He was pleased to find it perfectly clean and tidy. Maxson knew other officers were not that concerned about hygiene, but he was and it had always been a personal goal that every Brotherhood facility as well as the Prydwen were pristine and in top condition. 

He undressed and removed his guns, leaving his coat on the hanger closest to him. If he had to run away at some point and could only take one piece of clothing, he wanted that to be his coat. Some assistant had left a large washing bowl with hot water next to a stool; Maxson grabbed the rugged piece of cloth hung on the edge of the bowl, sat on the stool and started washing himself, slowly and intently. He looked down as he was rubbing his belly with the warm cloth and saw the tiny tattoo of a lion head he had just above his belly button, half-hidden beneath a trail of fine, black hair. In time there would be another one of a little bird’s flying silhouette next to it, but on that day the lion head and the Brotherhood logo on the base of his neck were the only decorations on his body.

 He sighed, snorted and cleared his throat. No matter how many years passed, he always got a lump in his throat remembering Owyn and Sarah. He didn’t resent his mother’s decision to send him away, but that had left the Lyons as his only real family. He had been used to losing friends and brothers in arms since he was very young, but with Owyn and then Sarah’s deaths came the sense of real loss for the first time. It was a weakness and he knew it; he shouldn’t feel more strongly for the fall of some Brotherhood members than others. He couldn’t let personal feelings cling to his mind for so long. But he couldn’t help it, specially with Sarah. His childish infatuation with her had faded away as he grew up, but his admiration for her as a warrior, leader and mentor didn’t. She had died so young, in such strange circumstances… he sometimes wished that she had remained as Elder, grooming him to be her successor, instead of him having been thrust to the top seat by the uselessness of every other eligible candidate. But history had gone down its own path, and there he was, and he didn’t even know where Sarah’s body had rotten. Back when they reported her death, all he could do was bury one of the poems he wrote to her on the training grounds of the Citadel. He smiled at himself. Those awfully long, convoluted love poems he wrote to her when he was a child. In the end, it was good that the only one he had the guts to send her was the one she would never read.

 

Maxson laughed bitterly. It seemed he couldn’t stop thinking about the Brotherhood, or people related to it. He tried to empty his mind for a few moments, focusing his attention on his own movements as he finished washing, dried himself and dressed up. He took a small comb out of one of his coat’s pockets and combed his hair to the right side of his head, carefully parting it with a very straight line on the left side first. When he wasn’t out in the field, he liked to take care of his appearance as much as possible without appearing vain. He even used to trim his beard. But he noticed the rate of longing stares and sighs as he passed by rocketed; and as much as he appreciated the attention, he needed to impose respect in spite of his youth, not be seen as the hot poster boy of the Brotherhood. So he let his beard grow to its present scruffy state, which had the additional benefits of making him look both tougher and older. 

Just as he was getting his arms into the familiar warmth and weight of his coat’s sleeves, he saw and then heard a laser beam go through the training field outside. Instantly drawn to a state of alert, he grabbed his guns and pressed himself against the side of the entrance. He knew one of his guards was on the other side of the wall.

\- Reeves, what’s happening?

\- Don’t worry, sir! It’s just Knight Gloria gooeing a mirelurk. Everything’s under control, you can come out sir! 

A few seconds later, a full, velvety female voice was heard. It was Gloria’s. How she got that voice out of that tiny body it was something Maxson couldn’t explain. But he certainly wouldn’t be the one to crack that joke to her. 

\- Sorry, Reeves! Did I startle you?

\- You didn’t, Knight Gloria! And I appreciate the pest control!

 They were yelling at each other so Maxson thought Gloria must be a bit far; when he went outside, he was startled to find her just standing outside the building. That woman and her uncanny ability to move quick and silent like a lizard. Her hair was messy and there was a red line around her eyes. He noticed a strange helmet hanging from her belt. 

\- Good day, Elder!

\- Didn’t I order you to take the day off?

 Gloria blushed and looked at Maxson, then at Reeves, then back at Maxson, then at the floor. 

\- I know, sir. I just wanted to take a last practice of aiming in a reduced visibility environment, such as the Glowing Sea. I was going to take the rest of the day off.

\- And how did you simulate that “reduced visibility environment”? With _that_? 

He pointed at the helmet; Gloria smiled and nodded, then took the helmet in her hands and moved it closer to Maxson. Attached to it was some sort of clothing whose purpose Maxson deduced was covering the side of the eyes, and also a pair of huge goggles that seemed to have been sprayed with a brownish paint. The goggles shape matched the red line around Gloria’s eyes. He’d be damned if that thing was the best that Brotherhood technology could do in terms of simulating environmental conditions. 

\- Yes, sir! Ingram and I…

\- _Ingram_ had a part in whipping up that piece of crap? This is worst than I thought.

\- What exactly is the problem here, sir?

\- That the Brotherhood of Steel is more than capable of providing you with proper equipment to simulate a reduced visibility environment. But you and Ingram are so tired that the best you could do is painting some goggles. 

For once, Gloria didn’t have a response. She didn’t seem upset either, so Maxson seized the opportunity to avoid her stubbornness. 

\- I am heading back to the Prydwen now. You are going with me. And once we get there, you are going to the barracks and get some rest. Understood?

\- Yes, sir.

\- Reeves, tell Knight Alex we are going back.

\- Right away, sir!

 

Maxson expected to either make the way back in uncomfortable silence or with Gloria trying to get him to review the mission plan. She had been kind towards him all those days they had spent together; but she was as good as him at faking sympathy, so he couldn’t say whether she had forgiven him for his stupid remark on her looks or she was just keeping up appearances. Besides, the faint uneasiness that they always got around each other had been present all the time. But that very day, walking together towards the vertibird pick-up point, some sort of spell seemed to fall upon them. Not only were they talking all the time, soon they were telling personal stuff about each other. Gloria told him about the murder of her husband, the abduction of her son and her waking up alone in an empty vault. Maxson only knew from Danse’s reports that she was looking for a lost relative; he had been hoping to get that information straight from her when the time was right. And that day he did, without even asking. He also found himself telling her about his parents, Owyn and Sarah and how his solo fight against the deathclaw hadn’t been that epic after all. Most amazing of all, they seemed perfectly at ease all the time. Even when they were waiting for the vertibird, leaning against the rails of the vertibirds heliport so close that their arms almost touched, there wasn’t the smallest sign of discomfort. 

Once they were aboard the vertibird, the spell was lifted and they fell silent. Maxson was puzzled, his head was clouded and slow as if the exercise and the bath hadn’t happened at all. His days off were always half-days off, so when they got to the Prydwen and Gloria went off to the barracks, he had to go to his quarters to review a thousand old reports. Luckily, he managed to have a little talk with Kells after dinner. He was the best source for general stupidity incidents, and his anecdotes about Brotherhood soldiers fighting some noodle serving robot at Diamond City managed to clear up Maxson’s head before he went to bed.


	9. Uranium fever

The speakers announced that the vertibird carrying Knight Gloria had just landed, and that she was alive and conscious but in dire need of medical attention. Maxson was on the down part of the command deck, reviewing some data with Lancer-Captain Kells; after hearing the announce, Kells nodded and Maxson turned on his heels. He had previously instructed that he would be the first to talk to Gloria. He rushed up the stairs towards the door and arrived just in time to see the door open and allow her stumbling onto the deck. She tripped over, Maxson leaned forward and caught her by the shoulders, making her lean on him. She was very pale, with blue circles under her eyes and covered with sweat. Her whole body was trembling. 

Despite himself as that wasn’t the most standard way of asking for a report, Maxson lowered his head and whispered in her ear: 

\- How are you feeling, soldier? 

She raised her face towards his. She could barely keep her red and swollen eyelids open; she opened her cracked, dry lips to speak with a wavering voice. 

\- Like I’m about to start glowing like a Christmas tree.

 Damned Knight Gloria and her never ending arsenal of ill-timed humour. Only her would deliver that answer in such a state. She collapsed into his arms, eyes closed but still conscious, as she spoke again. 

\- I need Cade.

\- Sure. Come on, I’ll help you.

 

She pressed her head against his shoulder and grabbed the back of his coat with her left arm. He wrapped his right arm firmly around her waist. She fell light and fragile as a bird, Maxson swore he could give his arm a second turn around her if he tried. His strong build was more than enough to support her small frame; still he held her very tight, as if she was made of glass and could fall to the floor at any moment. She started advancing tentatively, and Maxson tried to accommodate to her pace but soon he was carrying more than supporting her. Kells had gone up the stairs and looked at Gloria with a worried expression. He asked Maxson if he needed help; he merely moved his head from side to side. Kells turned around, dismissed nearby guards and left. 

When they were halfway up the ladder to the main deck, she asked him to make a small stop. They remained still for a couple of minutes, Maxson grabbing the rail with one hand and holding her with the other. She was weaker with every second and couldn’t hold herself with one arm any longer; she locked her arms around Maxson’s neck as best she could. Maxson pressed his lips against her forehead, without kissing, just feeling her sweat and the very high temperature of her skin. She started shaking violently; he drew her closer to him, lifted her full weight with his arm and continued up the ladder. 

He carried her with her feet in the air all the way to the med bay, where he deposited her next to a stretcher. Immediately she bent over herself and violently vomited a stream of blood. Maxson carefully held her head while she vomited. When she stood up again, he removed his hand and it scared the hell out of him to find a thick lock of her hair in his fingers.

 - Sweet mother of heaven! Elder, please, help me take her onto the stretcher!

Maxson nodded and put his arms under her shoulders while Cade picked up her feet.

\- On the count of three… one, two, three!

They lifted her easily onto the stretcher. Cade was already busy reaching for tubes, injections and blood packs.

\- Thank you, Elder. I’ll take it from here.

\- How bad is it, Cade? Did something fail with her armor?

\- I’d say her armor did its job, otherwise she’d be dead. But I’ve never seen anyone with this level of radiation sickness. She needs immediate treatment.- Cade looked Maxson in the eye.- It’s better that nobody has access to her while she’s here. I’m not sure what we’ll be facing.

\- Fine. You’re authorized to issue a general statement forbidding visits to the patient.- Maxson looked down at the blood pool on the floor.- I’ll send someone to clean that up.

\- I appreciate that, Elder.

\- Just get her back on her feet, Knight Captain. I’ll appreciate that.

 

It took two days to clean Gloria’s body from most of the radiation; she was reinstated to service as soon as she was out of the med bay, but Scribes still had to scan for signals in the CIT ruins area so she was allowed a few days to rest. In the aftermath of her recovery, the whole Prydwen was bustling with speculation, not regarding the very valuable information that Gloria brought back from the Glowing Sea but the reportedly tender reunion between her and Danse after she was released from isolation. Rumors were loud enough to reach Maxson’s ears and royally piss him off. He found them deeply disrespectful towards the soldier that had put her life on the line to get them one step closer to the Institute; and also towards the Brotherhood itself, whose mission was much more important than acting as a date service. Kells often said that Maxson expected too much from human nature; that in a place so small as the Prydwen, Radio Red Light, as he called it, was bound to go on air pretty often and it was good and fine for it was a harmless distraction. One much needed when spending weeks on end stationed on an airship. Kells was probably right, but it bothered Maxson nevertheless. On the other hand and as far as he could tell, Danse and Gloria were the same and behaved professionally, so at least _they_ did live up to his expectations. 

He wanted to check that Gloria would be in fitting condition by the time they located the Courser signal, so he set up an informal meeting in the evening, one hour after dinner to ensure things would be quiet around them. He waited for her on the nearest couch to his little table. He was pouring himself some whiskey when he heard her approaching. He turned towards her and felt a little dismayed, even if he had seen a lot of soldiers badly beaten up. She still looked almost as bad as when she first debriefed him after recovering from radiation. Her skin was even more pale than usual and had a slightly yellow tint. Her hair had thinned so much she had to change her fashionable updo for a simple ponytail. One could draw her skull just by looking at her face, because every bone’s line was perfectly visible. Her uniform hung loose around her body instead of wrapping tightly around it, as it was supposed to. Maxson was tempted to think that maybe she wasn’t hard enough for these high-profile kind of missions, but he quickly discarded the thought. He wouldn’t be unfair like that to her again. Besides, in spite of her ghastly appearance she moved with her usual quickness and flexibility, and had a smile on her face. 

He offered her a drink, but she rejected it saying that Cade still had her on a lot of medication. She stood up until Maxson invited her to sit down next to him. 

\- This is an informal meeting, I just wanted to check in on you. How are you feeling? 

Gloria weighed the question for a few seconds. She clearly didn’t believe that any meeting with him was informal. 

\- If you mean will I be strong enough to engage the Courser…

\- I meant what I said. I want to know how you are feeling, in general. What you said will come later, but not today.

\- I’m doing better. Seems my stomach can handle food again. I still have bouts of fever from time to time, that’s why Cade is keeping me on meds.

\- I’m glad to hear that.

\- Thank you. It seems we Communists have thick skins, after all. 

Maxson’s jaw dropped and he felt warmth on his cheeks and ears. Gloria kept an unreadable expression for a few seconds and then smirked. 

\- Seeing your face right now is a fitting revenge, I think. 

Maxson couldn’t believe it. She had just turned the joke on him? And after being seriously ill, so he wouldn’t have the guts to tell her off for it. 

\- Well played, Knight.   

 

She bowed her head, smiling, and Maxson heard Kells calling him from below. Saved by the bell. He excused himself, solved the Lancer-Captain’s question and went back up. Gloria was sitting with her back towards him and as he approached, he noticed something off in her posture. Once he was in front of her, he saw she had fallen asleep. That in itself would have been odd enough, but he could tell something wasn’t right. He sat slowly, close to her, and observed her chest raised and fell in quick and wide movements, as if she had difficulty breathing. Her face was full of sweat, her lips parted open and dry. That was familiar. He carefully placed the back of his hand against her forehead; it was burning. He shook her shoulder gently and lowered his voice. 

\- Gloria. Knight Gloria. Come on little bird, wake up. 

Maxson didn’t have a clue why he had called her that, but it seemed to work. She stirred and half opened her eyes, but didn’t seem to recognize him. 

\- Nate? 

Nate? That name rang a bell. He believed it was the name of her husband. She was mistaking him for her husband? The gears in his mind started turning and he realized she was probably delirious due to the fever. 

\- Nate, where is Shaun? 

Shaun, now he had heard that name too… all right, that was her son. She needed Cade and she needed him right away, but he couldn’t carry her to the med bay again. Maxson didn’t want any rumors involving him. His mind worked at full speed and he came up with a plan as she looked around, probably trying to locate where she was. 

\- Er… yes, Shaun is… he’s in his room. I’ll go bring him.

\- Ok sweetie, but be careful, he’s so little…

 

Gloria seemed to fall asleep again. He darted towards the main deck, telling a guard to keep an eye on her while he found the doctor. Danse was around the med bay when Maxson got to Cade, so he told him to come along; he could come in handy, as in fact he did. Maxson wanted to kill Kells when back at the command deck, he saw him standing next to the guard that watched Gloria sleep. Cade rushed forward to her with Danse behind him. Maxson dismissed the guard and whispered to Kells. 

\- What are you doing here, slacking off?

\- I thought I may be of assistance. 

Kells had the devilish smile he got when he expected to have some fun. Cade interrupted them, telling that they needed to get Gloria to the med bay, disturbing her as little as possible. Maxson looked at Danse. 

\- Carrying her would give the impression that she’s worse than she is. I have an idea. She’s delirious and thinks her family is around. Danse, maybe you can talk to her, get her to think you’re her husband and follow you. 

Danse’s face got red up to his ears and he put on his amazed look, with eyes wide open. Maxson didn’t need to look at Kells to know he was having a field day. 

\- Sweet heaven Danse, I’m asking you to talk to her, not to make her another child.

\- Yes, sir… 

 

Danse’s face was glowing red _“like a Christmas tree”_ , as Gloria would put it. But he obeyed, sat down next to Gloria and shook her gently, much as Maxson had done before. 

\- Hey, Gloria… Glory… hummingbird.

\- Hey, hon. Where’s Shaun?

\- He’s already asleep. Euh… why don’t we… let’s go cook dinner, ok?

\- Ah, dinner, yes…

\- Go follow Codsworth to the kitchen, I’ll be right there in a minute. 

Danse gestured Cade to start walking towards the ladder; Gloria followed him, hesitant but firm on her feet. Maxson had anticipated that probably Danse knew enough about Gloria to pull off the plan; certainly he hadn’t expected it was so much as to recreate her pre-war life so easily. He hoped Kells would refrain from making the question Maxson knew he was dying to ask, but Kells didn’t. 

\- Paladin Danse, if I may ask; is there any reason you called her _“hummingbird”_? 

Danse was waiting for orders and didn’t see the question coming; he probably was so shocked that he answered without hesitation. 

\- Knight Gloria’s late husband teased her with that nickname. She didn’t like it, but she always responded to it. 

Maxson felt an unpleasant chill down his spine. What were the odds…? Danse was clearly uncomfortable with the situation and Maxson was too, so he didn’t let Kells any chance to go on with it.

 - Thank you for your help, Danse. You may go now.  

 

Danse saluted and left. Kells did the same, but Maxson grabbed him by the arm before he started walking. 

\- Ed, this conversation stays here and doesn’t come out under any circumstances. Understood?

\- Please, Arthur. I like my juicy stories now and then, but I know when something is serious enough to keep my mouth shut.

\- Good. But poor Danse won’t hear the end of this, will he?

\- Nope.

\- Just be sure no one hears you when you tease him.

\- Aye, aye, sir.


	10. The caged bird sings

There had been several minutes of pursuit down the walkways of the Prydwen main deck, of shouting while trying not to shout and grabbing arms that released themselves and were grabbed again. Eventually Gloria had calmed down and gone to bed; after several minutes of crying, she was finally falling asleep. Luckily, the bed next to hers was empty and the rest of soldiers hadn’t been awaken by their presence. Danse was seated beside her on the bed, and softly stroke her hair as her eyes closed and her breathing grew deeper and softer. When she finally seemed to be fast asleep, he stood up and held his breath; she turned around on the bed and then stayed still. Danse sighed with relief and left for his own quarters. 

He was very worried. Not because of Gloria; she had seen much worse and would definitely get over it. She had threatened to leave several times, but she had promised to stay after he said that he’d made Maxson apologize, and he believed her. It was the Elder who worried him. What they had heard him say about Gloria, that she looked like a Communist, was so unlike him that Danse was having a hard time believing his own ears. He knew, because Maxson himself had told him, that he was worried about his rivals making their move while he was away on the Commonwealth. Danse had also heard him complain about Paladin’s Ruth untimely visit. But none of that explained his behavior. Maxson was not only used to being constantly under pressure, he had shown time and again that he could cope with that pressure better than the rest of his peers. He was a strict leader that could sometimes be tough on his soldiers, but never to the point of being disrespectful that he had reached that night. 

Maxson had had his doubts about Gloria. So had Danse. And about his own decision to induct her into the Brotherhood with so little knowledge of her or her intentions. Gloria had managed to dispel those doubts by virtue of her excellent performance in every mission she was assigned, big or small. Or so thought Danse. Maxson’s words made him fear that the Elder disliked Gloria on a personal level. Maxson had never shown disgust for anyone that didn’t rely strictly on professional grounds, so Danse didn’t know what he and Gloria would be facing if his fear proved to be real. It also pained him to believe so, in more ways than the professional one. He barely slept that night and his headache came back with a vengeance. But as it turned out, the next morning he got Maxson to apologize to Gloria and she barely made a fuss of it afterwards. It almost seemed too quick and easy, and Danse got the feeling that it wouldn’t be the last time he heard about that matter; but he was so relieved that it was sorted out that he decided to just forget that it happened at all.

 

As it so often did since he had met Gloria, after the incident life fast-forwarded again. Danse felt as if he was riding on a vertibird that flew too fast, with its doors wide open and nothing to cling to. The worst part was her going to the Glowing Sea; during that time it felt that the vertibird had went into a tailspin, and the pilot didn’t regain control until he had seen her out of the med bay. Then the vertibird went through a storm of people whispering behind their backs or straight out asking if given confraternization they shouldn’t be on different teams. Some people, and some other people had been told that some other people saw, how Gloria and him had looked at each other when they first met after her coming back from the Glowing Sea. Danse rejoiced that they ignored the little precious secret between him and Gloria: they didn’t touch on their first meeting when there were prying eyes around them, but later that same day and alone in Danse’s quarters, they had given in to a sweet, tight embrace. 

One night when Gloria was still recovering from radiation poisoning, there was a soft knock on his quarter’s door. It was pretty late, so Danse went to the door dreading that her condition had worsened or something bad had happened. He opened the door to a Maxson without his coat, who wasn’t looking like there was an emergency going on. He didn’t give Danse time to say hello. 

\- Night, Danse… am I interrupting something? Were you sleeping?

\- Hi, Arthur… no, I was just finishing reports for my temporary team.

\- Good. May I come in?

\- Sure. 

Danse stepped aside and let Maxson come in. It wasn’t the first time he payed him a visit like that; each of them was for the other one of the few people in the Brotherhood with whom they had a personal relationship, and they liked to have private talks in their time off. Maxson took a seat on the only chair in the room, while Danse sat on the bed. Maxson patted him on the shoulder and gently squeezed it. 

\- Crazy times, uh? How are you holding up, man?

\- Crazy indeed.- Danse looked into Maxson’s eyes- How is Knight Gloria?

\- Pretty bad, but Cade says she’ll get through. But I’m not asking about her, I’m asking about you.

\- I don’t know, things are going pretty fast. I’m happy, I mean, it’s good for the mission. But it makes my mind spin.

\- I didn’t expect it to go so smooth, I assure you. I’m sorry we had you switching teams, but it’s essential that Knight Gloria has enough space to do her thing…

\- It’s not a problem, I understand.

\- It’s also my understanding that your adaptation to your teams is perfect. I expected no less.

\- Thank you. But Arthur, it’s so hard…- Danse lowered his head and stared at his hands. Maxson drew the chair closer to him and placed his hand on Danse’s knee.

\- What is hard? Switching teams?

\- No, this thing that she comes and goes. I never know when she will come back, or if she will come back at all.

\- It’s Cutler all over again.

\- Yes.

\- And you don’t know if you can go through that again.

\- No. Yes. I mean, I’ll do whatever it takes. Whatever the Brotherhood needs me to do.

\- I know, Danse. Would you like to be assigned to a different team? You and Gloria are one of the best teams we have, but I’m sure we can find her another companion for her Brotherhood missions.

 

Danse didn’t answer straight away. It would be so easy. Very painful, too, but it would put his mind at rest. No more vertibirds plummeting to the abyss. He would see Gloria passing by, like the rest of the Prydwen crew. He’d miss her at first, but then he’d get used to it. No more goodbyes. No more wondering if she had managed to stay alive. 

\- No, I’d rather things stay as they are. I appreciate the offer. Unless you want me to, of course.

\- As I said, you’re one of the best teams we have. I’m more than happy to let you remain as such.

\- Are you…? Is there any reservations you have regarding Gloria?

\- What do you mean?

\- I know it’s always a tricky thing, allowing an outsider into the Brotherhood. But that thing you said…

\- By Liberty Prime’s nuclear ass, I knew I hadn’t heard the last of it! It was a joke. I was a jerk. I apologized. End of story.

\- I know, I know. But sometimes, I don’t know. Maybe I’m just seeing things.

\- Listen, Danse. If I didn’t trust her, there’s no way I’d have sent her to the Glowing Sea.

\- You know she’d found another way to do it.

\- Probably. Still, I just doubted her fighting skills when she first joined. She’s more than proven herself since. Do you feel better know?

\- Yes.

\- And you managed to keep talking about her and not answer my very first question.

\- I’m sorry, it wasn’t my intention. I’m fine, I will learn to deal with all these... feelings. Eventually.

\- I’m sure you will. I’ll let you know as soon as Cade tells me when she’s ready to leave isolation.

\- Thank you, Arthur.

\- Anytime. Now try to get some sleep. 

After Maxson had closed the door behind him, Danse lay down on the bed. He hadn’t told the whole truth. It wasn’t like Cutler, not exactly. It wasn’t better or worse, it was just different. Not only because Cutler didn’t use to go on solo missions so often as Gloria did. When she was in danger, when she got out of it, when that filthy mutant hit her and gave her that scar over her lip; it felt different. Danse didn’t know exactly what to think of it, but the fear of losing someone he cared about was familiar enough to make him uncomfortable, feeling vulnerable and exposed. And yet, he had made his choice to go down that path again; or rather, to go down a very similar path whose destination he didn’t even know. Maybe it would suddenly stop before a precipice. Or perhaps there was no path at all. One way or another, there was no going back. 

Danse knew Maxson hadn’t been entirely honest, either. He must know that his so-called “joke” had been a most extraordinary reaction, but he refused to acknowledge it; at least before Danse. On that night’s conversation, both had been using Gloria as a shield to cover what they didn’t want to tell to each other. Danse didn’t resent it. They both had trouble to recognize and talk about their feelings. Maybe when Gloria was out on her own again, they could sit down and speak their minds more freely. 

 

After she recovered from radiation and they met and embraced in his quarters, Danse began to get a clearer picture of what was going on inside him. When her bouts of fever disappeared completely, they became a team again and were assigned small tech recovery missions while Scribes tapped into the Courser’s signal. It was before one of those missions that he went to his power armor and saw something hanging from the handle that opened it. He found it suspicious at first, but when he took a closer look he saw that it was some kind of figurine. It was a small soldier in a power armor, with its hair painted black. He instantly knew who had made it, for she had been making similar things during the days she was off service. He delicately removed the piece of thread that attached the figurine to the handle, closed his eyes and kissed it. 

\- I’m right here, you know. 

Danse was so startled that he dropped the figurine. Gloria caught it in midair and put it in his hand, looking him in the eyes. She looked so beautiful, even under the cold, hard light of the Prydwen. It was time to jump out of the vertibird and dive head first into the sea. He leaned forward and placed a small kiss on her lips. She not only didn’t turn her face aside, but afterwards she took his hand and kissed it. Then she run her hand up and down his back, squeezed his hand and went away to enter her own armor. Danse was left trembling head to to toe, with fireworks in his mind and a very, very silly face.


End file.
